


Habits

by husbandsuho



Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst and Porn, Breathplay, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7636411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/husbandsuho/pseuds/husbandsuho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Habits

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this a while ago but I think I deleted it? Idk why but I just found it in my notes again and thought i'd post it. I did a bit of editing, but really not much. This is just bad though, not a good relationship pls do not take notes from this I just wrote it bc I was being fake deep and listening to sad music.  
> Don't do drugs kids.

It was too loud in the club, the overwhelming base leaving Wonshik’s head feeling heavy. His whole body felt both heavy and impossibly light at the same time. He couldn’t figure out whether he was having a weird high or just taken too much, but he didn’t really mind, his head too heavy and foggy to focus on anything for long.

Hands were on his waist and he couldn’t remember when they’d gotten there, but he knew he liked the feeling, that solid anchor on him when he felt like he was floating away. The eyes in front of him were pretty, pupils blown wide under those long lashes. They blinked slowly at him. His gaze roamed down to the pretty lips adorning the flawless skin, parted ever so slightly. They were so red, a little puffy, and Wonshik wondered what had made them like that. 

He laughed when he realised it was him. 

The lips quirked questioningly, “what’s so funny?”

“I don’t feel real.”

They smiled wide at the answer, dimples forming beside them. 

“Same,” a laughed followed. 

Wonshik couldn’t force his gaze away from the lips, desperately trying to remember who they belonged to. The fingers on his waist tightened, sending shockwaves of colour through him. The lips shimmered under the light. 

Was any of that real, or was he just too far gone? What had he taken again? He couldn’t remember. 

He couldn’t remember anything except the way those lips felt against his and how much he wanted it again. 

With a small stumble he leaned heavily on the body in front of him and brushed his mouth over the others. The touch zinged through him. 

His body didn’t feel solid anymore. It felt like he was falling apart, every atom coming unstuck until he was just a cloud of matter, only held down by those lips and the hands in his hair. The lips held him in place, like a magnet he couldn’t escape, the pull too strong for him to do anything but float there. 

His hands (were they his hands?) grabbed anything he could, fabric, hair, flesh; to keep him grounded. He wanted to be closer to that body, feel how solid it was when he felt like air. 

Slowly those hands pulled, dragging his floating mass out of the crowd, and his feet collected suddenly, solid against the ground again. He followed the hands, those lips, until he was pressing them back against the wall of a toilet stall, long legs wrapped around his waist. 

It wasn’t until much later when he was tangled in his own sheets, feeling significantly more real, that he remembered who the lips belonged to. 

“Hongbin.”

-

The next time he saw Hongbin he was sober, but only just. Hongbin found him slumped against an alley wall, a little blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He could remember a lot more this time, especially how the hits to his face had knocked the high out of him. Wonshik was usually good at keeping his debts in order, quickly paying them back. He didn’t have a lot of money but he did his best to pay for what he used.

But apparently he had a couple debts he’d forgotten to repay, and the people he dealt with weren’t exactly patient. He hadn’t seen it coming when they’d dragged him out of the club and beat him. 

But he’d gotten off lightly. At least they didn’t break anything. 

Seeing Hongbin hurriedly kneeling before him, checking him over for damage, eased the pain instantly. 

With out much question, Hongbin dragged him to his apartment, mindful of Wonshik badly bruised shin. It wasn’t far, only a couple blocks, and they were through the door in minutes, Wonshik still groaning in pain. He fed him painkillers and copious amounts of water, forcing him into the crisp white bed even though blood still dripped from his nose every so often. It didn’t matter, he could buy new ones.

With wounds dressed and bloody clothes in the wash, Wonshik snuggled down into the expensive sheets, so much softer than his own. Hongbin joined him shortly after, his own clothes strewn across the floor and leaving him naked, the city lights shimmering off his skin. He looked surreal. Laying there beside him, Wonshik mapped out the expanse of smooth skin of Hongbin’s back with his fingertips, in wonder over how the touch seemed to buzz through his fingers. His mind was still a haze.

They fell asleep beside each other like that, Hongbin’s nose pressed into the crook of Wonshik’s neck, a solid hand wrapped around wrist.

-

After that they met each other regularly, late at night usually. Hongbin would bring sheets of acid or a variety of pills, or Wonshik brought whatever he had left in his stash, depending on how they were feeling. They spent the nights floating together. Every time they met Hongbin would idly mention that they should probably slow down what they were doing, and Wonshik would always agree. But they never did stop. 

It wasn’t even the drug anymore that had Wonshik hooked, rather the feeling of being high with Hongbin, being around him. But he was hooked all the same, and it was obvious Hongbin was too. Sometimes they’d go to clubs and dance till their bodies hurt, or just wander the streets together. They didn’t always fuck either, though Hongbin’s expensive sheets were always inviting at the end of the night. Wonshik always fell asleep there anyway. 

They were on Hongbin’s vast veranda, sharing a cigarette as they came down, the air crisp on their skin. Hongbin had his back rested against Wonshik’s chest, his eyes fluttering closed every so often. He was tired, but Wonshik knew he’d refuse to go to sleep. Knew that he probably couldn’t for another couple hours, when the sun would be on it’s way back to the horizon. 

“Do you ever want it to just… Go away?” Hongbin asked suddenly. Wonshik frowned. 

“What?”

“Everything.”

Hongbin was looking up at the dark sky, where only a few stars shone dimly. Wonshik looked up with him. 

“Sometimes.”

-

Hongbin’s throat closed easily under Wonshik hands, and his eyes widened at the restriction. A choked gurgle escaped his mouth and his fingernails scratched at Wonshik’s wrist weakly. Wonshik growled low, putting a little more pressure on his slender neck. The way Hongbin’s lips parted prettily had him almost forgetting himself when a hand tapped on his thigh, but in an instant he released his hold, letting Hongbin suck in a garbled breath. 

He groaned and bucked up against Wonshik’s thigh which held his legs apart. 

He knew Hongbin wanted him to choke him again, but he was worried that how light his head felt might affect his judgement. Worried he might forget himself and leave his hand pressing down on that delicate throat. 

So instead he nipped at a spot on Hongbin’s neck, his teeth grazing over old and new hickies there. He groaned into the hot skin when Hongbin’s hand pushed past his underwear to grasp his cock. His head felt impossibly light, and his body began to come undone again, like it always did when Hongbin’s hands were on him. The bed felt like a cloud beneath them, almost as soft as Hongbin’s pretty skin. 

Wonshik took so much pleasure in marking the previously clean slate of Hongbin’s body, leaving the finger shaped bruises all over that perfect skin. And Hongbin did the same to him. He was rarely without a hickey or bite shaped bruise, and the red scratches down his back seemed like they’d never heal. But it was what he wanted, tangible evidence that all those moments with Hongbin were real, not just another hallucination. 

“Again, do it again,” Hongbin rasped, his grip on Wonshik’s cock tightening, and he gave in all too easily. Quickly his large hands wrapped around his neck again, and he kissed him softly before pressing down. He didn’t press as hard this time, just enough to restrict his breathing. 

Hongbin reflexly rattled a breath, and groaned at the small amount of air that filtered into his lungs. He choked a sob and hurried his strokes. Wonshik shuddered at the stimulation and pressed down a little more, only needing a couple seconds before Hongbin was coming, untouched. 

He let go quickly, letting Hongbin pant through his orgasm. Nails raked down his back again, opening old scabs and Wonshik whined. He came into Hongbin’s hand quickly after, too tired and overstimulated to last any longer, and he flopped down on top him, exhausted. 

“Roll over,” Hongbin groaned, his voice raspy. Wonshik complied, wrapping an arm around Hongbin’s waist and pulling him close. 

A yawn bubbled at his lips and his started to drift to sleep, too tired to clean himself up.

“We should do that sober,” Hongbin whispered suddenly, and Wonshik hummed in agreement. Hongbin sighed, the quiet rumble of Wonshik’s snoring beginning to fill the room.

“I love you,” Hongbin whispered into Wonshik’s hair, the first time the words left his lips, and he tensed a little. He shut his eyes tightly and held onto the warm feeling in his chest, praying he could keep it there. Keep the courage to say those words out loud without the help of a drug.


End file.
